ROXANE:
But the siege—Arras. . .

DE GUICHE:
’Twill take its chance. Grant but permission.

ROXANE:
No!

DE GUICHE:
Give me leave!

ROXANE (tenderly):
It were my duty to forbid you!

DE GUICHE:
Ah!

ROXANE:
You must go!
(Aside):
Christian stays here.
(Aloud):
I would have you heroic—Antoine!

DE GUICHE:
O heavenly word! You love, then, him?. . .

ROXANE:
. . .For whom I trembled.

DE GUICHE (in an ecstasy):
Ah! I go then!
(He kisses her hand):
Are you content?